Never Let Him Go
by DainoChild
Summary: Black's always wanted to help people. That's probably why he helped that freaky kid named N escape captivity, and probably why Black ended up going along with his schemes to create utopia, even when they don't seem so perfect. Slight AU. Isshushipping.


_This fic was inspired by Kazuo Ishiguro's 'Never Let Me Go', along with pretty much everything else I've had to read for English this semester. Mostly that one, though. It also references Sherlock Holmes and A Song of Ice and Fire, because seven hells yeah._

_I'm sure my professors would be so proud if they knew how I was revising._

_This is also probably an AU. The universe doesn't follow the established canon of the Pokémon world, but then again, I'm not sure if that's just because we have no idea what health care for humans is like and why criminals are always in gangs. It does all seem a little too perfect… Rest assured, I worked in a few creepypasta ideas that've been going around tumblr._

_Be warned: this is not a fluffy Isshushipping fic. It features a very messed up, emotionally abusive relationship that some may find triggering._

_And I will once again stress; this is dystopian._

* * *

**Never Let Him Go**

Once upon a time, Black had wanted to be a doctor. He'd liked the idea of saving lives and getting money to do it. This was back during the death of his childhood phase of testing the limitations of his dreams and coming around to the one of seeing the world with bitter teenage realism.

Cheren, already deep in bitter teenage realism, had laughed. "A doctor? With your grades?"

"They can get better," Black insisted. "We've only been in junior high for a month."

Cheren kept a sharp, cynical eye on Black's grades. They weren't bad, they just weren't as good as Cheren's, and so every time Cheren caught sight of Black's returned tests he'd give a derisive snort.

"Do you even get _why_ I want to be a doctor?" Black irritably asked after Cheren's behind-the-hand snicker at his chemistry grade.

"Does it matter?" Cheren asked, which meant that he had no idea.

"I want to help people," Black replied, "which is way more than anything you've ever wanted to do."

He stormed off. Cheren found him fifteen minutes later down near the beach.

"If it's that important to you, why don't you try harder?" Cheren asked.

Black thought he tried very hard, but in hindsight, he could have studied.

"Doctors don't have good lives anyway," Cheren said. "They gets lots of money, but it can't be worth it."

"Why not?" Black asked. "Nobody dies in hospitals."

Cheren looked at him strangely. "Except for donors."

Black didn't know what that meant. "Oh. I guess so."

After that, Black never wanted to be a doctor again. Though he wasn't sure what exactly a donor was, he didn't want to kill anybody. His rebellious teenager phase soon came and Black didn't want to have a job because that would be being another cog in The Man's machine. Bianca, being the only one in their circle who didn't ever fall to pseudo-Nihilism, had to continually convince Black that school was worth his time if only to have fun seeing her.

It was during this phase, at the age of fourteen, when Black first met N. Mom had decided that they needed 'family bonding time', which meant they went camping in the middle of nowhere even though that was nobody's idea of fun. White and Mom were shouting at each other about the length of White's checkered red-and-black skirt (which was, in full honesty, hardly longer than White's skull and crossbones belt), so Black decided to sneak off and look for pokémon.

The woods were thick and nearly impossible to navigate. Black wasn't entirely sure how he'd find his way back. Just as he was getting ready to turn around, he spotted a clearing ahead. And there, sitting with his back against a tree and a purple vulpine pokémon at his side, was a boy. He was frantically beating the black and silver bracelet on his wrist with a stone. Though his long green hair covered his face, Black could tell that the boy was most likely insane.

Black approached anyway.

The pokémon leapt up and started barking. The boy looked up. His eyes were enormous and blue, like White's, but at the same time nothing like hers. He scrambled to his feet, holding the stone out like a weapon.

"Stay back," the boy said. "Stay away, don't come closer, get away from me, I don't speak English, don't waste your time!"

Black raised his eyebrows. "You're speaking English right now."

The boy glared. "So what? You cannot do anything to harm me or you will be in a great deal of legal trouble."

"I don't want to hurt you," Black said.

The boy didn't lower the stone.

"I don't," Black insisted. He held up his hands. "I'm just walking around in the woods being bored."

The boy's glare faltered for a moment. "Zöllner, please be quiet," he yelped — actually yelped, in an almost replica of the sounds the pokémon was making, yet still clearly in English — at the creature. It immediately stopped barking, but kept its teeth bared.

"What kind of pokémon is that?" Black asked.

The boy snorted. "As if you wouldn't know. If you're here, you must be a Trainer."

Black shook his head. "Not yet. I haven't graduated yet. Two more years to go."

The boy didn't look pleased to hear this. "He is named Zöllner, but he is what the pokémon scientists call a zorua. He is what he is, and that is all that matters. A Trainer should never take away what a pokémon is, nor claim ownership of them… or use them."

"Are you a Trainer?" Black asked.

The boy's eyes widened. "No. Never."

"Are you gonna put that stone down?"

The boy did so, but reluctantly. "What is your purpose here?" he demanded.

Black gestured the way he came. "My mother's decided a family camping trip had to happen. Pretty shit. She's fighting with my twin, erm, my sister, so I had to get away."

The boy had started to back away again, looking more alarmed than ever.

"I'm Black," he quickly said. Seeing no change in the boy's alarm, he added, "My name's actually Hilbert, uh, but that's a terrible name, so, everybody calls me Black."

The boy continued to stare like Black had stepped out of a Kubrick film. For the first time, Black started to wonder if there was something odd about wearing black eye-makeup up to his eyebrows.

"What's your name?" Black asked.

The boy looked around again before muttering, "Everybody calls me N."

Weird name, Black thought. He smiled anyway and said, "Nice to meet you."

N frowned. "It is nice to meet someone who would harm you if necessary?"

"It's nice to meet someone honest," Black replied.

After another minute of staring, N sat down against the tree again. He never took his eyes off Black as he slid down to the ground, not until he was reaching for the stone again. The zorua walked to N's side, sat too, still glaring at Black. Black decided the most appropriate thing to do would be to sit opposite N and watch as he beat at his bracelet with the stone.

"Why are you doing that?" Black asked. "Is it fun?"

N snorted. "Humans."

The zorua gave a bark that seemed to be a laugh.

"What?" Black snapped. "Like you're not one."

N paused, looked up at him, raised an eyebrow, snorted again and went back to work.

"Can't you just take it off?" Black asked.

"No," N replied. He held it out for Black to see, sliding the bracelet up against his hand. "It does not slide off, and it does not have a catch. It therefore cannot come off."

"That's dumb." Black frowned. "Why did you get it in the first place?"

N looked up again. "Are all humans this stupid, or is it just you?"

"Just me."

N studied Black's face. Black forced a grin to cover how badly he wanted to punch N in the face. N was bigger than him, much bigger, so it made little sense for Black to pick a fight.

"I did not choose to wear this," N finally said. "Ghetsis decided that. He uses it to monitor my location, and I wish not to be found."

"So you're trying to break it off," Black realised. "Right, okay. Are you from a boarding school, or something, then?"

"Something like that," N muttered very quickly.

"Why don't you want to go back?" Black asked.

N looked at Zöllner, clearly exasperated, and bark-asked, "Are humans always this irritably inquisitive?"

The pokémon gave a short bark.

N looked back to Black. "I found out Ghetsis' purpose for me, and it does not suit me. I was created to be superior, and thus I will be superior and I will fix this broken world."

Being in the midst of a pseudo-Nihilistic phase to the point of wearing black skinny jeans, Black nodded enthusiastically. "So like, taking the power from The Man and putting it in different hands?"

"Yes," N said. "Mine."

Black had to assess N's worth as a leader before deciding to support him. "Are you a Republican?"

"No."

Black grabbed N's hand tightly. "Let's get that bracelet off you."

It had taken a very large rock, a knife and a lot of patience, swearing and struggling, but they got it off. The bracelet was in fact, a very high-tech piece of technology; Black had no idea what all the parts were, but the fact that there were so many and they were clearly electronically powered implied great technology.

"I am in your debt," N declared. "Once I have the power of the Tao on my side, I shall repay you. Even if you are human."

"I look forward to it," Black said.

N kissed the back of Black's hand before running into the woods. Zöllner growled at Black one last time before following.

For ten minutes, Black sat in the clearing wondering if any of that had really happened. He stood up, brushed his black jeans off and walked back to the campsite.

White and Mom were sobbing and hugging. They pulled Black into the hug too, and after they'd calmed down, Mom told Black that she had bronchitis and would need to go to hospital for a lung transplant.

"It could go badly," Mom sniffed.

"But nobody dies in hospitals," Black replied. He remembered what Cheren had said years ago. "Nobody except donors, anyway."

Mom sobbed.

Two weeks later, Mom came out of hospital completely fine, just like everybody else. She said that she felt much better and told Black and White to never be afraid to go see a doctor, because transplants weren't bad at all.

Black checked up on it, and there were no boarding schools anywhere near Route 10. He tried several times to tell somebody about N, but the opportunity was never right and Black didn't want anybody to think him crazy.

Eventually, so much time had passed that it would no longer be appropriate. There were far bigger things to talk about, like graduation and finally being able to go out and train pokémon. Black knew it wouldn't be his permanent career, that only happened to the really good Trainers (so it'd probably happen to Cheren and White), but a pokémon journey was a rite of passage. Everybody went on one.

"Don't be afraid to talk to strangers," Mom assured them repeatedly. "Everybody's always willing to help Trainers. Nobody'd do anything to hurt you."

Black exchanged a look with White. They both knew this, yet Mom sometimes felt the need to tell them things they already knew. Apparently the world hadn't been so safe when she was a child — people still got sick and died instead of getting too old and dying, there were criminals kept in the same place as everybody else instead of in storage and pokémon weren't as contained. Mom knew the world wasn't like that any more, but she still sometimes had to tell them. Maybe she just forgot.

Professor Juniper sent over a box of pokémon, PokéDexes and her best wishes. Black picked an oshawott, named it Wottson, unsurprisingly beat Bianca's tepig, and very surprisingly beat Cheren's snivy and White's emolga. In fact, by the time they reached Accumula Town, Black and Wottson hadn't lost once. They'd just beaten Cheren for the second time when they heard a commotion in the town square. A group of strange gingers wearing PVC hooded outfits surrounded a young man with long green hair and a purple robe covered in eyes.

"Strange," Cheren murmured. Since Cheren had a thing for knowing everything, this clearly was very far outside the expected spectrum of human encounters.

They were Team Plasma, and they ranted at length about how pokémon deserved to be freed, that using them for their own selfish desires was stupid. Black looked at Wottson's PokéBall, considering, but that was stupid. Wottson seemed to really like him.

"Madness," Cheren agreed. "If my pokémon want to go free, I would let them. They don't, so they won't." He shook his head. "See you later, Black."

Black was on the way out of the Pokémon Centre when he spotted another green haired man. This one wasn't wearing purple, looked like a Trainer and was walking straight towards him.

"Black," he said.

Black's eyes widened. "N?"

N nodded. "We need to talk."

N grabbed Black's hand and led him away into the woods. He stared Black up and down as Black did the same. N looked better with his hair pulled back. His eyes weren't so wide any more, or perhaps that was the shade from the hat playing tricks, but N was wearing a black turtleneck under a white shirt that still seemed to cling to his body and brown pants and he just looked _really good_.

"You look much better," N said. "Your eyes appear healthy without all the rings around them."

Black blushed. "That, that was just a… a thing."

"Did you get an eye transplant?" N asked.

Black frowned, shaking his head. "I just washed the makeup off."

"…you mean that you chose to appear so stupid?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Black demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"Monitoring Team Plasma," N said. "That man is Ghetsis."

Black peered through the trees at the green-haired man. He didn't look much older than N, but his eyes were red and his features didn't have the same 'work-of-masterpiece-art' look that N's did.

"Is he your brother?" Black asked.

N snorted. "No." He pulled Black around until Black was facing him again. "What do you think I am?"

Black frowned. "What…?"

"Think, human," N sighed. "Look at me. Look at how _perfect_ I am. How can anything as glorious as I naturally exist?"

"I, I," Black spluttered. "What?"

N gently caressed Black's face. "I may look and be capable of speaking like you, but I am not like you, human. I am perfect. I am perfect to forgive your flaws, the flaws of all humanity."

Black shook his head slowly in disbelief. N's hand followed, fingers hooking around his jaw, forcing Black to look at his face. It was true. N didn't have so much as a freckle, a spot, or even anything that looked even like rough skin.

"I'm a donor," N whispered. "Ghetsis' donor, created to be perfection for when he fails yet again."

"A donor," Black repeated breathlessly. He'd gained some sense of what that meant, that donors were where things like Mom's new lungs came from, but had never given it much thought.

"Yes," N said, voice eerily calm. "Do you understand?"

Black swallowed heavily and shook his head.

N's fingernails dug into Black's cheek. "A clone, human. A clone created so that pathetic creatures like _you_ have a second chance at life, while taking the deserved lives from people like me." He tiled his head to the side, studying Black's face impassively. "This is the truth of your world. Have you never comprehended it? Have you truly seen no clues of it, or have you simply thought it best not to ask?"

Black shrugged pathetically.

"Humans take everything," N whispered. "They exploit every creature they can find, then find it necessary to create new ones simply for the sake of hurting the world further. Humans do not deserve the lives they have been inexplicably given."

Black tried to take a step back, but N's grip tightened.

"You, though," N continued. "You helped me. You're the reason I will be able to fix this broken world, and for that, I will gladly spare you. I will spare your entire race, but the status cannot remain quo."

Black hesitantly met N's eyes. "That's, really what donors are?"

"Yes," N said. "Normally we'll be bred in factors and led to the slaughter when necessary, but certain people like Ghetsis, they keep their own copies locked in the basement. Specially tailored to their needs."

Black's mouth was so dry he could hardly speak. "I thought, I thought they just… were empty. Empty shells. Just bodies."

N glared. "Do I look to be simply an empty shell?"

"No," Black replied. "Not even close."

Finally, N released him. Black could feel the sting where his nails had been. He brushed his fingers over the bleeding scratches.

"Will you try and stop me?" N asked.

Black slowly shook his head.

N's eyes narrowed again. "Do you believe me?"

Black hesitated before shaking his head again.

N growled. His hands flew out, grabbing Black's. Black bit back a yelp. N forced Black's hands under his shirts and over his perfectly smooth stomach.

"You don't —" Black gasped.

"Why would I have an umbilicus?" N irritably asked. "It is unnecessary."

Black looked up into N's eyes. They were raging, like the sea in a storm, and though it was terrifying, Black didn't look or pull away.

"Do I not repulse you?" N demanded.

"No," Black said. It was completely true, and he hoped N could recognise that.

N studied Black closely for two full minutes. His eyes fell on Wottson's PokéBall. "You became a Trainer, then."

Black bit his lip and nodded.

N pulled out a PokéBall of his own. "I have had to, too. We must therefore battle."

"Oh. Um. Okay."

N didn't pick Zöllner, but rather a purloin. Black was sure that if N had chosen Zöllner, he would've lost. He didn't, though, and Wottson looked extremely proud as he turned back to Black.

"Interesting," N murmured. "I never expected a pokémon to say such things."

Wottson returned to his PokéBall. N glared at the device like it was personally offensive, before scooping up his purloin and turning away. "I imagine we will meet again, Black."

"I hope so," Black said.

To Black's surprise, that was also true. N was strange, a donor and he was throwing everything Black knew into question, and Black could probably get into a lot of trouble for talking with an escaped donor. It was terrifying to know that not only could donors escape, but they _wanted_ to and they didn't _want_ to be donating their vital organs. Or at least, N didn't, and apparently he hadn't had a choice.

They met again in Nacrene City. N kept his hands off Black, but not his eyes. His eyes were locked with Black's throughout their battle. Maybe if they hadn't been, N would have won.

"Thank you," N said very softly. "I now know what I must do."

"Huh?" Black asked.

"How to unleash the Tao," N clarified. "You showed me, I've seen it now." He stepped closer, until his breath mingled with Black's, and whispered, "I'll become the hero, and you will become mine. And once I have you, I will never let you go."

Chills ran down Black's spine as N walked away. They weren't like the electricity of a crush. They were in terror of what N would do.

The world they lived in wasn't ideal. It wasn't close to what it ought to be. But for Black, and everybody like him, it was _safe_. They lived to one hundred and thirty. There were no criminals on the street; they were all locked away in the police's PCs. N wanted to destroy all that safety, and while it was clearly safety founded on all the wrong things… Black didn't know if he could give it up.

All the time on the way to Nimbasa, Black worried. Why _was_ it too much to ask? In the past, people had managed without donors. They had been sick, very sick all the time, not as capable of walking all over the world as people were now, but nobody _needed_ to see the world or Train pokémon.

Yet, in full honesty, Black didn't want to give it up. He didn't want his mother to die at only sixty-three. _He_ didn't want to die that young, and he wanted to see the world. He wanted to go from Unova to Kanto and then just wander until he'd seen the entire world.

When N greeted him in Nimbasa, Black found his own forced smile mixed with dread.

"Come, let's go on the Ferris wheel," N said. "We may spot Team Plasma. I heard they're plotting."

N didn't give Black much of a choice; he grabbed Black's arm and dragged him along with so much strength that Black had to wonder if N had been created to be super-strong too.

"What is your dream?" N asked once they were seated.

He was leaning too close again. Black found it impossible to think.

"Uh… I guess… I wanna get all the Gym Badges…?"

"As do I," N said. "Though, I don't need my own. Not necessarily."

"Right," Black mumbled. He felt light-headed.

"Would you work with me?" N asked. "To create a better world."

"S-sure," Black said.

"Good," N purred. "Very good."

And N kissed Black.

Black had never been kissed before. There opportunity had never come up; Nimbasa was a small town, and there seemed to be an agreement that everybody could only kiss either Black or White. Given that White was far more attractive, friendly and popular, everybody chose her. Even Cheren and Bianca.

It was not the wild attack Black had expected of N. It was soft; it was warm. N's arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him close as their lips brushed over and over, a repeat of N's promise in Nacrene.

All of a sudden, it seemed much easier to let the world go.

Black followed N back to his room at the Pokémon Centre. They kissed all through the night. It didn't seem that N knew anything beyond kissing, and that suited Black fine.

Though he tried not to, Black's hand continually found its way to N's perfectly smooth stomach, where his belly button should have been.

They never battled again. N would sit for hours in fields, caves, by the sea, calling to pokémon in what he called their own language. Black would sneak off to battle, to call Mom, and N would look over with heavy scowls of disapproval. Daily calls became weekly, and weekly became fortnightly, until Black hardly ever called. Every time he meant to, N would come up with some idea that needed Black's approval.

Black didn't understand N's ideas, but N insisted on ranting at him anyway. It made him feel stupid, like just the brawn to N's brains, and N agreed.

"You may be a brutal Trainer, but it is only a necessity for now," N softly said. "You will become better than that when the world we wish to create is within our grasp."

When they walked through Chargeston Cave, N held Black's hand tightly and murmured at length about the mathematical equations that made the cave so stunning. Black wished he could stop and just appreciate how gorgeous it was.

Travelling with N wasn't bad, though. Aside from how good the kissing was and how great it was to fall asleep in N's tight embrace, N would listen to whatever Black had to say and offer a sincere opinion. He didn't say what Black wanted to hear, not unless he meant it. Black always knew where he stood with N; that N hated him for being a normal human and a Trainer, but loved him anyway. N wanted Black to be the very best he could be, and wouldn't let Black go until he was. Black didn't want him to, either.

The Gym Battles were easier than before with N's approval on the line, but less fun. Wottson seemed to pick up on Black's new stress and spent less time playing around before and after them. It wasn't the same, but that was the idea. The world wasn't going to be the same once they'd finished, either.

Black often wondered why he hadn't seen Cheren, Bianca and White in so long. They were all going to the same places at approximately the same time, yet they never saw each other. It was odd.

Eventually, he did see them again, but at the worst possible time. N had led him up Dragonspiral Tower, tightly clutching the Dark Stone the whole way. Black had a chill climbing up his spine the closer they got to the sky.

It wasn't excitement.

"This is it," N breathed in excitement. "All our work, leading to this moment."

Black liked that N never forgot his contribution.

N walked forward, holding out the Dark Stone theatrically. It rose into the air, dark light spreading as it expanded. An enormous dragon roared to life. It was black, its eyes red and bloody and electricity crackled around from its tail. It even had muscles.

"Impressive, isn't he?" N breathed, smirk growing. "With Zekrom's power, nothing will be in our way. We have the formula to create a new, better world and none can stop us."

Black looked around, expecting someone to run in.

"Are you unimpressed?" N irritably asked.

"I'm impressed," Black quickly replied, turning back. "Just thought I heard something other than the nine foot thunder dragon."

N wrapped an arm around Black's waist, pulling him close. "Then, let's leave. You've got to win the last Gym Badge."

He kissed Black deeply as Zekrom roared in what, for a freakish moment, Black swore was approval.

That was when somebody ran in.

"_Black_?" White cried.

Black tried to shoved N off, but N's grip tightened until it was painful. Later, he found deep bruises across his hip.

White ran forward, PokéBall in hand, as Black struggled. She sent out Elga, her emolga. Zekrom roared violently, landing between them and White. Its tail flared with gathering blue lightning.

"Stop it!" Black managed to cry. He couldn't break N's grip, but Zekrom immediately calmed. "That's my sister," he told N, trying once more to pull away.

"Does it matter?" N sighed.

Black glared. "Family, duty, honour."

Black took N's surprise to break free. He ducked under Zekrom's wing and ran into White's arms.

"Where the hell've you _been_?" White demanded. "Mom's been freaking out!"

"Being a Trainer, like you," Black replied. He tried not to worry about what White would say to N, and what would happen if she offended him — and she would.

White glared from Zekrom to N. "Oh, _sure_. Not joining Team Plasma or anything."

Black took a step back, frowning. "No."

"What the hell is ZEKROM doing there, then?" White demanded. "And what're _you_ doing with that freak's tongue down your throat, huh?"

"H-he's, he's my boyfriend," Black spluttered. "Could you not? We're, we're just…" He looked over at N. N nodded. "…just going to fix the world. Make it better. You know, stop exploitation and… stuff."

"Through terrorism," White deadpanned. She sighed heavily. "Right, well, you're grounded, young man. Come on, I'm taking you home."

Zekrom roared so loudly, Black's ears started to ring. White stumbled backwards in surprise. N ran forward, grabbing Black's arm, and dragged him onto Zekrom.

"Don't worry," N whispered in Black's ear as Zekrom started flapping its wings. "I'll never let you go."

Black dropped his badge case and watched White catch it. N was too busy kissing him to notice.

Zekrom was a strange pokémon. It was extremely affectionate with N, protective of Black and scared off everything that got in their way. N refused to put it in a PokéBall, which was extremely problematic.

"I cannot start the new world with enslavement," N insisted.

"Okay, but I can't walk into Opelucid being followed by an electric dragon out of legends," Black replied. "How about we meet on the other side?"

N pulled a face. "I don't like the idea of you being alone with all those Trainers, where I can't reach."

"I was pretty fine before you came along," Black replied.

"You did not question the realities of your world," N said. "You were blind and I opened your eyes."

"And they're not gonna be closed again," Black firmly assured. "Trust me. I haven't forgotten what you are, and what happens to people like you."

"_And_ pokémon," N firmly said.

"And pokémon," Black agreed. He kissed N softly, eyes closed. "It won't take long. I'll go to the Pokémon Centre, then to the Gym, then back to the Centre and we'll be on our way."

N kissed the top of Black's head. "Fine."

Black watched N climb up Zekrom. Zekrom cooed at Black, nuzzling him affectionately, before taking to the sky.

Black ran to the Pokémon Centre, heart pounding. He handed his Pokémon over to the nurse, told her to take her time, and scanned the Centre.

"Psst, _Black_."

White was hiding behind a magazine, far away from the window. Relieved, Black sat at her table. She slammed the magazine down, eyes ablaze.

"What the _hell_?" she snapped.

Black smiled weakly. "Can I have my badges back?"

White pulled his case from her bag, but held it close to her breast. "Not until you tell me what the hell."

Black sighed heavily. "Did, did you ever wonder, why nobody gets sick enough to die?"

"Organ transplants," White replied.

"Yeah, and did you wonder where the organs come from?"

White frowned. "Uh… cloning."

"Yeah," Black said. "But just because they're clones, that doesn't mean they don't have souls. Or dreams. And they have, have to give it all up, to donate everything, cos of how they were… born?"

White processed this for a moment. Her face was paler than usual. "So, you're saying, they create people just to kill them for their organs?"

Black nodded. "Donors."

"And your boyfriend, who happens to look _exactly_ like the leader of Team Plasma and is after the same pokémon, he's one of them?" White checked.

Black nodded again.

"…ew, you're like, dating Ghetsis!" White wailed. "Don't you have any idea how _creepy_ that guy is? He like, won't take his eye… or is it eyes… he won't stop oogling my chest and he's made _so many_ remarks about my legs, you know, how _nice_ it is to see some _healthy young flesh_ and what a lovely heroine I'd make and — oh god please tell me he's not actually Ghetsis' clone."

"He is," Black sighed. "But he's only modelled on Ghetsis. He's not like that. He's his own person, with his own soul, and I just can't accept that we get to live so long when they don't get to live at all."

White sighed heavily, setting Black's badges on the table. "But threatening people into it?"

"N's a bit extreme," Black admitted. "But people need to know that this is going on. Then maybe they'd think twice about getting a transplant. Who knows, maybe some diseases just get better. I don't want to live in the shadow of the donors' suffering, that's all."

"I don't either," White admitted. "But… can't you just tell people? Don't you think that if people knew, they'd protest?"

Black shrugged. "Apparently they know, and apparently they don't care."

White frowned. "Okay. Okay. Just… just promise me that _you're_ in control. Not him."

Black thought about N's kisses he couldn't avoid, the embraces he couldn't break, the bruises on his hips and lied, "I am."

Black had already let go of the old world. He couldn't hold it again, not now.

"I'm heading to the Pokémon League next," White said. "I have a quick stop on the way, or… way out of the way, but it's just some Team Plasma crap. I'm glad you're not involved, it's all so stupid." She smiled and hugged Black tightly. "Call Mom, won't you?"

"I will," Black replied.

White let Black go. As he watched her go, he found tears falling down his cheeks.

He had no idea why.

Though Black would never admit it aloud, it was nice to be away from N. He by no means wanted it to be permanent, but having the chance to walk around a city and observe without a voice in his ear whispering of all humanity's evils was kind of nice. Children played, oblivious to all, and Black was filled with envy. How long ago had it been that he'd been a child and helping people had seemed easy? How long ago had he wanted to be a doctor because doctors never killed anybody?

Apparently donors didn't count. They never had. They didn't die; they only completed their purpose.

Black wondered where they were. He'd been all over Unova, and he'd never seen anybody who'd seemed out of place in the same way N did. He hadn't seen any tracking bracelets other than the one he'd broken off N's wrist. Where were the donors hidden? In hospitals? Opelucid Hospital was filled with recovering patients and busy doctors. If they were there, there was no sign.

If Black took too long, N would probably storm into the city. He ran to the Gym and made short work of the child Gym Leader, taking no pause to talk to her about the battle or celebrate their success with his pokémon. He ran back to the Pokémon Centre, drumming his fingers on the counter through the healing process.

"In a hurry suddenly?" the nurse asked, amused.

"Yeah, gotta, meet someone quickly," Black replied. "He doesn't like it if I'm late."

N was pacing around Zekrom, roaring. He stopped at the sight of Black and raced over. His hands covered Black's cheeks as he demanded, "You got it?"

"Of course," Black replied. "I've never lost a battle. You know that."

N grinned gleefully. "Then, all we need to do is storm the Pokémon League." He kissed Black. "Come on. We haven't a moment to lose."

"Wait, N."

N turned to face Black. "What?"

"I just…" Black sighed heavily. "It's not gonna work, is it?"

N's eyes narrowed. "Of course it will work. I will become Champion and they will have to do whatever I say."

"We don't do whatever the Champion says," Black sighed. "I don't think, I don't think people'll give up donors or… or pokémon."

"They will," N insisted. "I'll make them."

"Isn't it better if they _decide_ to do what's right? So that they won't just, go back to the way things used to be as soon as you're gone?"

"Who said I'm going _anywhere_?" N demanded.

"Nobody," Black quickly said. "Just, listen, would you?"

"I'll listen when you start being _right_," N snapped.

Black drew in a deep, calming breath. "Things need to get better. They need to change."

"Then why are you disagreeing with me?" N demanded.

"Extremity," Black said. "That's all. I mean, if it doesn't work, what then?"

"It will work. There is no future in which it does not work, none that I have seen."

"But what _if_?"

N rolled his eyes. "Then we will try again with more force."

"N… if it goes wrong, promise me one thing," Black pleaded. "That we'll just go, we'll get out of here, and they'll never catch us, so… please. Promise me."

"And what of others like me?" N demanded.

Black shook his head. "You, you can't expect people to, to give up donors, to, to go back to disease and sickness."

"And why not?"

"It won't happen!" Black cried. "No matter how right you are, they won't. The best they'll do is treat donors better until they, you know, but —"

"That's not good enough!" N shouted. "That will never be good enough!"

"I love you!" Black shouted back. "Isn't _that_ enough?"

N shook his head.

Black stumbled backwards like he actually had been stabbed in the heart.

"Are you with me or against me?" N demanded.

"I'm with you," Black murmured. "I'll always be."

"Good," N said. He grabbed Black's hand, tightly, nails digging into Black's palm. "So let's get to the Pokémon League. You've wasted enough time."

He pulled Black onto Zekrom's back. Black wrapped his arms loosely around N, and wondered if letting go would be so bad.

N won every battle so easily that Black had to wonder why he didn't get the damn badges himself. It occurred to him that it was because N didn't _want_ to battle, but that didn't make it much better. That made it sound like N had used Black instead of just taking advantage of the opportunities Black offered.

Alder stared across his chamber at them, face set with such seriousness that it chilled Black to the core.

"Champion Alder," N greeted. His voice was heavy with mocking. "I challenge you for your title, your power, and I will win."

"You didn't win those badges yourself," Alder calmly said. "That makes it rather difficult to make this an official challenge, doesn't it?"

N's eye twitched. "If I win, do such technicalities truly matter?"

"Well, yeah." Alder's smile was amazingly insincere. "Sorry. Better luck next time."

N turned to Black, expectant.

"…okay," Black sighed.

"Don't do anything that you don't want to," Alder softly said. "No matter who's asking. Don't do it."

Black stared wide-eyed at Alder.

Alder's smile became reassuring. "It won't end well, and it won't make you happy."

N laughed. "Fool. Black wants this as much as I do."

"Are you sure?"

Black had no idea who Alder was asking.

"I'd never make anybody do anything they don't want to!" N cried.

"…really."

N elbowed Black. "Go on. He's too smug to be in power."

Black swallowed his hesitation and reached for Wottson's PokéBall.

It was the toughest battle Black had ever fought. He wanted to win as much as he wanted to lose. The battle slipped away from Black, though — N started hissing commands. It horrified Black that his pokémon knew to obey, like N was as much their Trainer as Black. Like they had melded together into one being.

"Use Zekrom," N whispered when Black's fifth pokémon had fallen. "You're Ideal enough."

Black did. They won.

"Finally," N practically moaned. "_Finally_. The world we wish to create is within grasp! We can fix _everything_."

Alder looked disappointed. Black had never seen a Master Trainer look disappointed after losing.

"Pokémon will be free," N declared. "No more Trainers!"

"Don't you mean _donors_ will be free?" Black asked.

"…yes," N said, startled. "Them, too."

Black frowned. His heart was pounding. Nothing felt real, nothing but the ice creeping into his voice. "Why did you sell it to me as such a big deal if _you_ don't even care? Do you have any idea how _horrible_ you made me feel? And you don't even _care_!"

N opened his mouth to reply.

"No, shut up!" Black cried. "Pokémon don't hate us! Have you noticed _nothing_? Can you just not see anything but what you _want_ to see? Ask Wottson to leave me! Ask any of them! See what happens, it's exactly what Zekrom's done — yeah, _they'll stay_."

Suddenly, Zekrom suddenly took to the sky, roaring murderously. Yet it was not focused on Black. Another roar sounded, this one lighter, and a feathered white dragon surrounded by blazing fire appeared.

"Reshiram," N gasped.

Reshiram landed, shaking the ground. From its back slid White.

"Not too late, am I?" White asked.

"A Hero of Truth," N murmured. "I did not foresee this. This was not part of the equation."

"White's kind of always part of the equation," Black replied, proud.

"I knew you'd come," Alder said.

"Had to save you, didn't I?" White retorted.

Alder grinned.

White turned her furious gaze to N. "I'm not letting you get away with this," she growled. "Hero of Truth and Hero of Ideals, right? So let's battle and see who's right."

"Black," N started.

"Your fight," Black replied.

"Will you stay with me?" N asked.

Black looked across at White, bathed in the light of Reshiram's flames, then to N, overshadowed by Zekrom. "I love you," he whispered.

"Let's get this over with," White said. "I've got Team Plasma to deal with, too."

"They have nothing to do with this," N snarled.

"They have _everything_ to do with this," White snapped. "It's not my fault you're too thick to see it."

"ENOUGH!"

The ground started to shake violently.

From the ground, a castle rose. It enveloped the Pokémon League. Staircases burst down from the windows, and then, everything was still.

Black staggered to his feet. A man was walking down the staircase, and he looked just like N. He spread his arms wide, smile gleaming.

"Fantastic job N," Ghetsis beamed. "Thirteen failed before you, but I knew you were the perfect copy. I knew you'd complete the task I created you for."

N was still on his knees, staring in horror.

"Get up," Black whispered.

Ghetsis was before them now, smirking. "I knew you'd be the one who would go far enough to summon the dragon for me. I knew you would seize power, and I would take it from you." He chuckled darkly. "Of course, I still found uses for them. Just as I'll find a new use for you."

N climb to his feet, glaring defiantly. "No. This is my world now."

Ghetsis laughed. Then he finally noticed White. His words were suddenly harsh and clipped, like an actor going off script. "What are _you_ doing here, girl?"

"Foiling yet another of your ridiculous plans," White smoothly replied.

"Ha!" Ghetsis chuckled. "You're already too late!"

"My eyes are up here," White deadpanned.

Ghetsis gave a strange half-growl, half-shout.

"So, what were you just explaining?" White asked. "About how you manipulated a clone into getting Zekrom because it was the only way you could be close to good enough?"

"Stupid woman!" N shouted. "You don't know anything! Neither does Ghetsis! We beat the Champion, so it shall be no trouble to beat _anybody_ who stands in the way of our goals!" He turned to Black. "Right?"

Black hesitated before turning to White. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you get it?" White sighed. "He's lying to you! He's been lying to you the whole time! There _are_ no donors — there haven't been in fifty years, you idiot!"

Black paled. "Wh-what?"

"I looked into it," White said. "Did that even cross your _mind_? Or do you just believe every pretty boy you meet?"

"But, he's —"

"He's a clone, but they don't create people just to kill them for their organs," White replied, rolling her eyes. "Maybe they did, _once_, fifty years ago when Mom was our ages, but that was before it'd been proven that clones have souls. People still got upset about it! There were protests everywhere! Nobody would even accept the donations, so the whole thing was worthless and they fixed it! As you'd know if you'd've even _checked Wikipedia_ before going on this stupid Nihilistic quest!"

"But, the organs," Black spluttered. "Everybody gets transplants."

"You don't think they're capable of just cloning the individual organs?" White groaned. "You're embarrassing, Black. You're the most embarrassing sibling of all time. Do you _really_ hate people enough to believe that?"

"Cheren said —"

"_Cheren_ was making a _historical reference_ because he's a hipster! That's what he does, he thinks it's funny and ironic!"

There was nothing but truth in that.

Black turned to N. "Did you know?"

"No!" N cried.

Black had no idea if he believed that.

"It was all Ghetsis' plan," White declared. "Raise a perfect clone to hate humanity completely. Get them to tame the legendary dragons. It was a pretty good plan, old creep."

"Pretty good?" scoffed Ghetsis. "It is the _perfect _plan."

"Nope, not even." White tossed Elga's PokéBall up and down. "You made one big mistake, Gaycheese."

"And what was that?" Ghetsis scowled.

White's grin was more tooth than mirth. "Your plan hurt my baby brother."

Reshiram roared, flames blazing.

Black dashed around to the Champion's side. He couldn't stand to watch; that would mean looking at N. Alder offered a weak smile.

"Not much we can do, hm?" he remarked.

Black stared up at the castle. "Could go in and destroy it."

Alder's smile became a grin. "I like your style, Black."

Black didn't. He was just doing anything to keep his mind off how horribly wrong and easily misled he'd been.

Plasma's castle fell. Ghetsis yelled about being perfection, even though he technically hadn't done anything. And N lost.

"Fine," N bitterly said, glaring at White. "Perhaps I was, in some way, slightly uninformed."

"Everything you've ever known is a lie, and you're _slightly_ uninformed?"

N ignored her, turning to Black. "Come on, Black."

Black stood his ground.

"…Black?" N turned to face him. "Black, come on. We're leaving." He paused for a moment, and a tremble reached his voice. "Like you said."

Black shook his head.

"_Black_. You said you'd come. We _agreed_."

Again, Black shook his head.

N frowned. "Black, come on." He offered his hand. "I love you."

Black swallowed his nerves. "Yeah. But you don't do a very good job."

"What?" N sounded so desperate.

"If you don't get it…" Black sighed heavily. "Think about it."

N's hand dropped. "No. I don't get it. We were doing the right thing."

Black clenched his fists. "You lied to me. You manipulated me. And I let you. I'm sure you know why I did. You used it against me, how I felt about you, and now you expect me to want that?"

N frowned. He grabbed Black's arms. "Black, I —"

Black punched him. "Let me go when I want to be let go, dammit."

N staggered backwards, eyes wide with betrayal.

"Yeah," Black said. "That's a bit like how I feel."

Black turned back to White. He couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I get it if you don't want me around, I… I'm so, so sorry."

White threw her arms around him. Her embrace was painfully tight. "Black, you unbelievable dork, I always want you around." She pulled away, but her hands remained gently on Black's shoulders. If he wanted to, he could pull away. He could hurt her.

"Let's go home," White said.

It took Black a minute to realise it was a suggestion.

"Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, let's."

White called down Reshiram. They climbed upon its back. Black wrapped his arms around White, resting his head on her back as they took to the sky.

* * *

_Please note that Kazuo Ishiguro doesn't obnoxiously repeat variations of the title throughout his brilliant novel, that's just me being heavy-handed with emphasis._

_I didn't envision this fic turning out as it did. I think it still turned out okay, but did take a life of its own. It's odd: normally I write very affectionate couples in fanfics and save all the dysfunctional abusive relationships for my original works, but clearly this got a heavy dose of the dysfunctional abusiveness. I don't think that people are just normally abusive or not. I think that some relationships just bring out the worst in people, and that can entirely be where you are emotionally at the time. This was all Black not picking up on the signs and just giving N what he wanted, when he wanted, minimal questions asked, and N being perfectly fine with taking everything._

_In a way, 'Never Let Me Go' is about a society that does not stop asking and taking until there's nothing left to give. I guess with that in mind it makes sense that that is what Black and N's relationship came to reflect in this fic._

_…now I'll go back to writing them being adorable and fluffy._


End file.
